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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26422921">Mandatory Cuddle Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound'>verfound</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The House Band [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, Family Fluff, LBSC Sprint Fic Challenge, Prompt Fic, Sprint Fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:49:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,841</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26422921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Marinette signed up to be Jagged Stone’s tour stylist, Luka had a teensy little clause written into her contract.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The House Band [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>199</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Crikey!  A Wild Dingo has Appeared!, LBSCSprintFicChallenge</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mandatory Cuddle Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Response to LBSC’s first (er…second?) official Sprint Fic Challenge, using the prompt: “Sorry...sir...the contract says I need to sit in your lap.”  Family Fluff ahoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had started as a joke.  Well.  Sort of.</p><p> </p><p>Luka had been <em>mostly</em> joking, at least, when he had first asked Penny to write the tiny, harmless clause into Marinette’s contract.  They had only been married a year, you see, and he had thought it’d be <em>romantic</em>.  <em>Cute</em>.  Funny, even.  Penny had raised one eyebrow, given him her most sardonic look, and told him it’d be his funeral before agreeing.  Marinette, who was always on top of things, had scoured the contract as soon as it had been delivered.  She wanted to make sure she had read it through thoroughly, had covered all her bases, and knew <em>exactly</em> what she was agreeing to by signing up to be Jagged Stone’s full-time personal tour stylist.</p><p> </p><p>…she had promptly thrown the contract (and a few other things) at Luka’s head as soon as she’d found it.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The Stylist hereby consents to fifteen (15) minutes undisturbed Mandatory Cuddle Time with guitarist Luka Couffaine, wherein she will remain in his lap until said time has expired or her contractual obligations have been deemed fulfilled.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>It was supposed to be a joke.  A cute little excuse to get some Mari Time in during the hectic Tour Life.  (And it wasn’t like they wouldn’t be sharing plenty of Cuddle Time anyway: the stints on the bus and plane could get long and boring, and if Penny and Jagged could spend said time canoodling Luka didn’t see why he and Marinette couldn’t, too.)</p><p> </p><p>She hadn’t been <em>too</em> upset, in the end.  He’d been able to pacify her with kisses and crooning, an easy laugh and a reminder that <em>he loved her and it was a harmless joke,</em> and at least that way – with Mandatory Cuddle Time written into his contract – Jagged couldn’t commandeer <em>all</em> of her time on the tour.  Because they both had known the eccentric rocker for <em>years</em> by that point, so they both knew how demanding he could be (and that he totally would).</p><p> </p><p>…it was their first year of marriage, after all.  Luka felt he had a right to monopolize <em>most</em> of that time for himself, right?  They were <em>newlyweds</em>.  It was <em>expected</em>.</p><p> </p><p>And it had worked out great, really, until…well.  Until they’d gotten back from the tour, she’d been busy with some non-Jagged commissions, and they’d had a stupid fight over…something.  He couldn’t even remember what.  But he had been in the studio the next day, and the recording process had been <em>dragging</em>, and he’d been desperate for some Mari Time.  He had texted her as much, innocently joking about her neglecting her <em>contractual obligations</em>, without so much as an apology for whatever stupid thing they’d been fighting about the day before (that was entirely his fault and therefore his duty to apologize for, according to her).</p><p> </p><p>Twenty minutes later, Jocelyn had walked through the studio door, entered the recording booth, and stood awkwardly by his side.  He’d removed his headphones, leaned onto his guitar, and asked her what she was doing there.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, sir…” she’d said in that prim, clipped tone of hers.  Her eyes never left her phone as she adjusted her glasses.  “…the contract says I need to sit in your lap.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes had bugged out as Jagged and Dingo had, after a beat, started cackling.</p><p> </p><p>“Um…what?” he’d asked.  She’d then shown him her phone, where the text conversation with Marinette was pulled up.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>MC: Joce I am SO SORRY to ask you this but</em><br/>
<br/>
<em>MC: My husband’s a dumbass and there’s this stupid clause in my contract saying I have to sit on his lap for 15m a day and I normally wouldn’t ask you this but</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He’d stopped reading after that, giving his wife’s assistant a dumbfounded look.</p><p> </p><p>“…no,” he said.  “That’s not…no.  Hell no.”</p><p> </p><p>Jocelyn had merely adjusted her glasses, reminding him too much of Nathalie Sancoeur in that moment, and read the next text aloud: “Please inform him that, in lieu of the Tour Stylist being busy with her other damn job, an MDC Proxy will suffice.  Enjoy your Mandatory Cuddle Time…”</p><p> </p><p>She had paused, her lips twisting in an annoyed little grimace, and added: “…<em>Asshole.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Which had only made the jackasses in the corner laugh harder.</p><p> </p><p>(Dingo had been more than happy to snap a picture of a scowling Luka, Jocelyn sitting in his lap with a forced expression looking for all the world like a department store mannequin, and send it to Marinette to confirm her <em>contractual obligations</em> had been satisfied.  Penny had sent her a frickin’ fruit basket.)</p><p> </p><p>Still, more times than not they both loved the little clause, and they didn’t really fight enough for her to utilize her Proxy – especially after the second time, when Dingo had shown up with an official MDC employee badge, waggled his eyebrows at Luka, climbed into his lap, and alternated between acting like he was Marinette (which had resulted in Dingo being shoved to the floor when he tried to kiss him) and that Luka was Santa Clause (which had also resulted in Luka shoving Dingo to the floor), just to piss him off.  They fought a hell of a lot less after that – or at least, if they did, they made up quicker.</p><p> </p><p>So even if it had started out as a joke, over time Luka had grown to love the little clause in Marinette’s contract.  He loved Mandatory Cuddle Time.  And maybe he even sometimes loved it when Marinette couldn’t actually meet her contract’s demands.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>LC: i’m so stuck darning.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>LC: everything sounds like garbage</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>LC: i’m the worst musician ever</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He was in their home studio, the room that was a chaotic mesh of her sewing supplies and his music equipment, working away on a song for his second solo album.  She was…somewhere in the house.  The last time he’d left the room the sun had still been climbing in the sky, and the last time he’d glanced out the window it had been dark.  He was sure she was home, though.  He could hear Harmony playing in the other room and smell something delicious in the oven.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed and fidgeted with his phone, waiting for her response.  He didn’t have to wait long.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>MC: Stop it.  You’re a famous rock star.  Everything sounds amazing.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>His lips twisted in a grin.  He knew she was right, but he didn’t exactly believer her.  She was biased, and he was stuck.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>LC: i’m shit.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>LC: i think i need some MCT</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>MC: Sorry, star.  Your daughter is being a bit demanding.  I’m afraid you’re out of luck.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He frowned at her message.  Demanding?  He could hear Harmony laughing.  She sounded anything <em>but</em> demanding.  She…</p><p> </p><p>“Papaaaaaaaa!”</p><p> </p><p>He looked up as the door to the studio burst open.  Harmony half-ran, half-toddled in, her stuffed snake choked in a death-grip beneath her arm.  She stopped by the chair he was sitting on, grinning up at him around the thumb she’d stuck in her mouth.  He laughed and sat up, putting his guitar down and reaching out to ruffle her dark hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, baby,” he said.  “What’s up?”</p><p> </p><p>“I miss you,” she said, the words slightly mumbled around her thumb.  She popped her thumb out and grinned up at him.  “Maman says you guck.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyebrows lifted, an amused smile curling his lips.  That was certainly one way to put it.</p><p> </p><p>“Did she now?” he asked, and his little ball of chaos nodded like it was the most serious matter ever.</p><p> </p><p>“Melly’s hungry,” she said, shedding some light on Marinette’s reply.  Ah.  <em>That</em> daughter.  Melody had been awfully demanding lately, but that wasn’t anything new for a two-month old.  “Maman’s feeding her.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about you, little bug?” he asked, poking her stomach and making her giggle.  “Did you eat?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep!” she said.  “I am going to bed.”</p><p> </p><p>“So soon?” he asked, heaving a dramatic sigh.  Harmony reached out and tugged on one of the rips in his jeans.  He smiled fondly at his three-almost-four-year-old.  “Yes, bug?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>I miss you</em>,” she said again, more firmly this time.  “You played <em>all day.</em>  And Maman says…Maman says…”</p><p> </p><p>Her face scrunched, her blue eyes crossing as she tried to remember exactly what her maman had said.  She looked up at him, uncertain.</p><p> </p><p>“You…<em>the contract says I need to sit in your lap,</em>” she said, and he barked out a laugh at how serious she sounded.  She grinned as he scooped her up, hauling her into his lap and hugging her tight.  She laughed when he smacked a kiss against her cheek.  “Can I have cuddles?  If Maman can’t?”</p><p> </p><p>“You can have all the cuddles, little bug,” he laughed.  He leaned back in the chair and held her close, resting his cheek against her soft hair as she burrowed against his chest.  “It wouldn’t be the first time your Maman sent someone else to get her cuddles.”</p><p> </p><p>Harmony looked <em>scandalized</em> at the idea of someone else claiming Marinette’s cuddles.  He tapped her nose and leaned in, winking at her when she giggled.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s even had <em>Uncle Dingo</em> get her cuddles before,” he whispered.  Harmony kept giggling as she snuggled against him.  His fingers wiggled in the ends of her hair, tickling the back of her neck.  “I much prefer Harmony cuddles.”</p><p> </p><p>“She says I’m a pr…p…a poxy!” Harmony said proudly, which only made him laugh again.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the best poxy, Harm,” he said.  He pressed his lips to her head, lingering as he breathed in the scent of her shampoo.  “You’re the best poxy ever.”</p><p> </p><p>Harmony babbled on a little while longer about her day and everything Luka had missed while he’d been holed up in the studio, but her words were low and slurring and she kept repeating herself as she fought to stay awake.  It wasn’t long before they’d tapered off completely, and he’d looked down to find her fast asleep on his lap.  He smiled and kissed her head, rubbing her back as she shifted against him.  A gurgle at the door made him look up, and his smile widened as he saw his amazing wife standing there with their youngest in her arms.  Melody was a little fussy, and the burping cloth was still over Marinette’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>His annoyance from earlier had completely vanished, replaced by the warmth and love and near-bursting feeling of <em>home</em> and <em>right</em>.  He held out a hand to her, smiling when she rolled her eyes and joined him in the chair.  His arm snaked around her waist, and she laid her arm along his shoulders, reaching up to comb her fingers through his tousled hair.  He pressed a kiss against Melody’s fuzzy head, and he lingered when Marinette’s nose nudged his temple, her smile hidden in the small space between them until his lips found her own.  His fingers stroked her hip, picking out the melody that was becoming clearer in his mind the longer she kissed him…</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Music used to be everything to me – now it’s just a soundtrack to you...</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Last line is from Matty Nay's unreleased song "Soundtrack", which he leaked during one of his Lockdown Livestreams a few months back.  Thanks to whoever cut that specific bit so I didn't have to link y'all to the livestream &amp; say "go to 23:42".   xD</p><p>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y5X53wr76jw</p></blockquote></div></div>
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